


burned and burning with regret

by celaenos



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, critrole rsweek, their dynamic is so underrated but i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celaenos/pseuds/celaenos
Summary: He looks at her seriously, calmly, which is almost unnerving. “We’re gonna get her,” he says, low. “I promised, and I meant it.” He waits until Keyleth nods, then lowers her back to the ground. “But if you wanna burn some things up in the meantime, I’m up for that too,” he grins.





	burned and burning with regret

The fireball misses Grog’s head by a _sliver_ and Keyleth gasps, apologies on her tongue as she runs towards him. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she reaches out and Grog just frowns, a bit surprised as he looks down at her. “You, um, dodged that really well,” she adds, a bit surprised herself. Grog isn’t known for being the most dexterous person in the group.

He grins at her. “I may not be as quick as the twins, but I can hold my own. Probably about the same as you in that area,” he teases. At least, Keyleth _thinks_ he’s teasing her, she can never quite be sure. With Grog, or with anyone really.

“Well… I’m sorry about the…” she waves her hand towards the scorch mark on the wall. “I was um, practicing?”

He frowns at her. “Practicing your magic? Have you always had to do that?”

“Um…” Keyleth shrugs. “I mean, when I’m learning a new spell.”

Now Grog looks doubly confused. “Fire is a new spell?”

“Oh, no. Not like… no,” she says with a sigh. “I was mostly just angry. I wanted to burn something,” she admits, shrugging again. She doesn’t think she would be admitting this to anyone _but_ Grog. Certainly not to the twins. Not to Percy, it’d be too embarrassing. Or maybe, not… embarrassing isn’t quite the right word. Keyleth watches Grog pick up a sword off the mansion’s wall and swing it into a fast circle, waiting for her to continue. It’s not embarrassment, it’s shame. Shame at her anger, and how it’s affecting her.

She’s silent for a minute or two, the only sound in the room is the whistling of the sword cutting through the air, and then Keyleth just… explodes. They’re in the basement, everyone else is up in the kitchens or in their bedrooms, and Keyleth starts talking about her frustrations as Grog whips a sword around and watches her carefully. She goes on and on about Raishan, about the hordes of her people that she’ll never see again because of that fucking dragon, about how much she doesn’t want to be a leader, about how much she misses her mom. She almost shouts it. Or at least that's how it feels, when it comes out, all loud and angry, like the words are burning her throat. It shakes the space between them. Her whole body is trembling.

Grog stays silent for another moment and Keyleth bursts into tears. She can’t stop it. She knows it makes Grog uncomfortable, but she can’t do anything about it.

The next thing Keyleth knows, his palms are wrapping around her antlers like he has only done once before. This time though, he lifts her into the air by them. Only a few inches or so, bringing her almost eye level with him, but not quite. Keyleth is tall—the third tallest in fact, after Percy—but Grog still almost has a good three feet on her.

He looks at her seriously, calmly, which is almost unnerving. “We’re gonna get her,” he says, low. “I promised, and I meant it.” He waits until Keyleth nods, then lowers her back to the ground. “But if you wanna burn some things up in the meantime, I’m up for that too,” he grins. “I throw ‘em and you burn ‘em?”

Keyleth smirks, conjuring up fireballs in each hand. “Sounds like a plan.”

They spar until they’re both exhausted. Well, Grog may only be pretending for her sake, but either way, Keyleth is beyond tired and it takes all of her energy to climb up the stairs.

She pauses at the top of the basement, groaning at the sight of more stairs leading up to the bedrooms. “Maybe I’ll just flop down here,” she says, looking down at the wooden floor. Grog makes a noise that sounds equal parts indignant and exasperated and then he’s touching her again. This time, he lifts her all the way up and slings her over his shoulder. Keyleth protests for half a second, then just sinks into him tiredly—hopefully, everyone else is asleep and paying no attention whatsoever.

Grog dumps her unceremoniously onto the first bed that he sees. It’s not her usual room in the mansion, but Keyleth sinks happily into the bed all the same. She makes a try to pull the covers around her and then Grog makes the same exasperated noise again and they are thrown—semi violently—over her face.

“Goodnight Grog,” she mumbles, genuinely appreciative.

“Night Kiki,” he says, turning to leave. Keyleth hums happily. He doesn’t often call her that.

“Grog—” she calls out. His boot scrapes against the wood, stalling, but he says nothing. Just waits. “After all of this is over. After we kill a bunch of dragons, and you know — if we don’t die, and before I have to go back to Zephrah, want to go around and scare some people with Minxie? Like, for fun? Like pranks or something? Not to be mean,” she stresses quickly. 

Grog chuckles deeply, then says, “I’d like that.”

“Okay, okay, good,” she yawns. “Then it’s a plan.”

 “A plan,” he agrees. “If we don’t die trying to kill a bunch of dragons.”

“Baring that… whole… thing.”

Grog chuckles again before his voice goes serious. “We’re gonna get her. We’re gonna get them all.”

Keyleth pushes the blanket off of her face. “Yeah, then we’re gonna go scare a bunch of kids with a tiger.”

Grog’s face splits into a smile. “Gomes too.”

“Obviously.”


End file.
